


The 4th Mistake

by TCvesper



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Bloodplay, M/M, Mild Gore, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some Plot, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCvesper/pseuds/TCvesper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slower "romantic"/sexual build between Chrollo and Hisoka in the time period that Chrollo is without his nen. Twisted fluff, sexual tension (with minor activity), and some violence between the two as of right now~ There will be more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gin Rummy

Chrollo sat unmoving, staring out at the ruddy landscape. His hair and face were freckled in a layer of red dust from the wafts of sand caught up in the wind. Hisoka watched him from a distance, considering whether he looked more like a dead man stuck in rigor mortis or like some staunch believer stuck in prayer. Either way, he was a toy that needed a second appraisal. Gon and Killua were a ways away from ripening to the point of plucking, making Chrollo his best bet at entertainment in the meantime. 

With a quick flick of his wrist, Hisoka sent an ace of spades slicing through the air at Chrollo's back. Seconds later, to neither one's surprise, a pen was impaling the card's inverse black heart. The motion, however, had been mostly lost on Hisoka. His teeth began to sink sweetly into his bottom lip. The numbing pain sent a shiver through his jaw. **_Oh_** , Hisoka cooed. _Who knew you could still be so enticing?_

"I was under the impression I wouldn't be seeing you again," Chrollo leaned back on his hands, tilting his head just enough to see the man approaching him. A practiced smile on his face.  
"Did you miss me? I know how close we'd gotten recently.♥"  
"Close enough," Chrollo returned to looking at the scenery. _For you to stab me in the back_ , Hisoka tickled himself by finishing the sentence in his head.  
"I decided I'd try and put humpty dumpty together again," Hisoka retorted, casually taking a seat beside Chrollo.  
Chrollo chuckled and shifted himself around to face Hisoka. His eyes traveled from the curl of his shoes, to the tip of his fiery pink crown of hair before making their way back down to bore a hole straight through his eyes.

Another shiver whirled through Hisoka.

"Do you have a royal army up one of your sleeves then?"  
Humoring the joke, Hisoka seemed to let an entire deck of cards slip from the cuffs around his shoulders before putting on a show of displaying his hand.  
"Pick a card♣~" He offered the cards to Chrollo, tilting them out towards him.  
Chrollo obliged, selecting a card at random, and glanced down at what he had drawn.

A joker. Of course.

"Wouldn't this be considered unfortunate?"  
"A joker can have any value," Hisoka replied blandly as all but the one card vanished in a puff of smoke. "What value will you give it... _danchou_?♠"  
An overzealous smile curled up onto Hisoka's cheeks. An intense pressure shifted back and forth between them before sizzling out as Chrollo blinked and turned away.  
Hisoka's smile settled back into a thin, dejected line.  
"Use me," the statement was firm with the implication that he didn't have much of a choice.

An uneasy silence pervaded the space between them. Hisoka noticed for the first time that despite his lack of aura, Chrollo's presence still had an undeniable resonance. It demanded respect, even as he sat there, disheveled, looking all the more like a whimsical hermit readying a riddle.  
"...I see," Chrollo finally replied as he got to his feet. It was vague and suggested a stream of thoughts may still be ongoing in his head. Hisoka shrugged, taking it as acceptance.  
But from Hisoka’s low position, it became increasingly more apparent just how filthy this man was. The beige band he used to cover his forehead had slipped down over his eye as he stood. The feathers on his open jacket were dusted with the same red sand that was dripping from his mussed hair, and a combination of dirt and sweat was darkening the outlines of his abs.  
Hisoka's expression must've given something away.  
"What is it?"  
"When might be the last time you bathed?"  
Chrollo hesitated, genuinely contemplating the question. He often lost track of time and direction when he was on his own. It would somehow always work out in the end, but he suddenly wondered how Hisoka managed to find him. The realization that it would've been quite the chore caused him to cast a bemused look down at Hisoka who simply returned the unspoken question with a smile.

“You may need that… or perhaps not, considering your situation.” Hisoka gestured to a phone on the ground where Chrollo had been sitting. It was open, as if Chrollo had been in the middle of contacting someone.  
“Uh-Oh. Did I interrupt?~”  
“No.” Chrollo picked it up and glanced at the highlighted address.  
The name was bracketed by a star and a spade.

___________________________________________________________

Chrollo stepped out of the shower, sounds and steam billowing around him. He grabbed a small towel from the shelves beside him and flipped it up over his head like a hood. He made only a minor effort to dry his hair while he focused on listening to the muffled voice behind the door. Hisoka was in the next room, lounged out on the hotel sofa, speaking on the phone.

_"I'm busy at the moment~ Hm? Is that so? I can't deliver him to you~ Why don't you make the trip yourself? You're so cautious~ How mean~ You'll just have to wait and see~ You've never been very fun. Mhmm. Of course~ I know, I know. Bye bye~"_

Hisoka hung up and glanced down at the screen. Illumi had called to complain about Killua likely involving himself in something _unseemly_ for a Zoldyck. To make matters worse, his little birds seemed to have lost track of the boy after he attended some kind of meeting at the auction house. Illumi was busy on yet another assignment when he was notified of this development and currently wasn't able to do anything about it. He'd been hoping to cash in on the favor Hisoka owed him for his earlier role in playing a body double.  
"Owe you one, huh?" Hisoka muttered as he leaned back and stared idly up at the ceiling. 

"Who can't you deliver?"  
Hisoka slowly shifted his eyes in the direction of the voice to see Chrollo leaning against the bathroom doorframe. A puddle was slowly forming beneath him and he was completely naked aside from a towel that'd been haphazardly tossed onto his head. For a moment, they just stared at each other.  
"Forget something, danchou~♥?" Hisoka mocked while admiring the view. His hand twitched involuntarily, making his nails pierce deep into a pillow beside him.  
He found the texture of the frothy cotton frustratingly disappointing.

"..."  
"There's a change of clothes in the dresser." Hisoka offered as he pointed to the wall across from the bathroom, a smirk playing on his lips. Chrollo sighed and strode through the room, tossing his undersized towel at Hisoka's face as he passed. Hisoka pulled it down off his eyes and scrunched it over his nose and mouth, inhaling the scent as his gaze lingered shamelessly on the movement of Chrollo's hips from behind.  
"It's true that you're pervert."  
Hisoka's only reply was a soft moan and a look of increased satisfaction.  
Chrollo opened the drawer and found a basic white button up and a pair of casual black pants. He pulled both on, leaving the shirt open, and gracefully popped himself over the arm of the sofa beside Hisoka. He sat on the arm, elbow leaning on the back, with one foot on the cushions and the other dangling off the side.  
"Oh~ I expected you to sit as far from me as possible." His tone was both teasing and intrigued. Chrollo seemed to have an innate adaptability.

"We should discuss how to find an exorcist."  
"Hmm... you haven't heard anything?"  
"It's harder to track information without my usual sources"  
"A spider without its web, huh?"  
Hisoka paused, looking thoughtfully smug, "I suppose I could get some use out of this thing?" His hunter's license materialized in his hand.  
Chrollo gave the card a look of recognition. Even with a license, one couldn't access the Hunter's website without Nen. He closed his eyes for a moment, fully resigning himself to accepting Hisoka's help.  
"But-" Hisoka began, standing up and moving behind Chrollo.  
"Perhaps you should dry your hair first? I'd hate to see the look on Machi's face if I let you catch a cold♠~"  
Hisoka dropped the towel he'd been holding onto Chrollo's head and started tousling his hair. The massage-like movements were rough, playful, and barely effective, but Chrollo somehow found himself enjoying the novelty of it. 

Just as he fell into the rhythm, the motions changed. Hisoka's fingers ran through his hair, down to his neck, stopping when his fingernails met skin. Chrollo's expression remained passive as Hisoka dug a candy-colored nail into his throat. That was more like it. The _elastic_ resistance of flesh and the _sticky_ sensation of fresh blood. Hisoka moaned against Chrollo's skin. A thin red line trailed down his jugular. Hisoka's tongue stopped it from leaving a stain on the collar of his shirt.  
Chrollo's skin was unusually cool. It sent Hisoka's nerves on edge, like touching something so hot it felt frostbitten. He slowly continued licking along the vein, the taste of iron and ice sending chills vibrating through his bones.  
He stopped when he reached the back of Chrollo's ear.  
  
"Consider this little tribute the first payment for making me do something so tedious♦~"  
Hisoka turned to leave, twirling his license on his index finger as walked away.  
Chrollo watched his back and sighed quietly as he heard the door click shut.  
_No response was likely the safest response with Hisoka_ , he thought as he felt something like an _itch_ writhe beneath his wound.

___________________________________________________________

"Abengane, huh?" Chrollo looked over the information Hisoka had printed out for him. A known nen exorcist had applied to participate in a game for hunters known as _Greed Island_. Several copies had been sold at the Yorknew city auction. Mostly purchased by a man named Battera. Hisoka's intuition gave him the distinct feeling the little Zoldyck's disappearance might be related.  
That possibility was _much_ more than welcome.  
Chrollo wondered if any of the troupe members had gotten their hands on a copy. It was likely. A game wherein players risk their lives? There's no way the spiders wouldn't try to turn that into a competition. Friendly or otherwise. Chrollo smiled fondly, hoping they'd get along in his absence. He had no way of contacting them with the restrictions the chain user had set. And Hisoka's only contact, Machi, was currently screening her calls. 

"Well. This information tells us two things. First, he can be bought. Having been hired to play this game. Second, we know where to find him. The problem is how we gain access. Should we try to steal a copy for ourselves?"  
"Hmm? Thievery is more your business~"  
Hisoka sat on the floor with his back to the Sofa. He was constructing a card pyramid while Chrollo sat on the sofa, constructing a plan.  
"I suppose it is," the smile hadn't faded. "Though I seem to recall you making it a profession for a while."  
"Infiltration and theft are different crimes♦~"  
"One is just the first stage of the other. You infiltrated the spider to try and steal an audience with me..." Hisoka’s lips curled up at that. He felt Chrollo move and looked up to see the man looking down at him from over the back of the couch. His loose hair fell to either side of his face and his expression had returned to neutrality.  
"I could use those _sticky fingers_ of yours."

Hisoka's eyes widened in response, his eerie smile stretching further.  
However, the art of stealth outside of battle wasn't something he often appreciated. He remained silent, anticipating the extra incentive.  
  
"Isn't it up to me to decide your value? This is an order." Chrollo's demand was absolute. There was nothing to back up his authority. The troupe wasn't here. Without nen, he was almost defenseless in a confrontation with Hisoka. A poisoned dagger wouldn't do him much good stuck to the ceiling. And yet Hisoka couldn't object as the two stared each other down. The look in Chrollo's eyes reminded him briefly of Illumi's... and then of Gon's. A blend of two contrasting souls. Dark. Determined. Light. Limitless. Resilient. Entrancing. And completely _engulfing_. 

Hisoka swallowed a moan.

His shoulder started to quiver. He held it down, knocking his back into the sofa, as his face distorted in perverse delight.  
"Hisoka," Chrollo spoke again, demanding a verbal consent even while his tone remained calm.  
"Of course, _danchou~_ " Hisoka stammered through the shakes as he reached up and grazed Chrollo's hair with his fingertips.

“Good.”  
With that, Chrollo’s subtle smile returned and Hisoka’s aura burst with kaleidoscopic pleasure.


	2. Crazy Eights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hisoka and Chrollo steal their copy of Greed Island (Part 2 of probably 4?).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has more plot to it than the first. If you're completely uninterested and only want straight-up Chrollo/Hisoka interaction then maybe skip to the end? The next part will go back to being more focused on their personal moments/will likely be cuter in content~

A silhouette stood in thorn-like branches, leaning against the trunk of a rather bare tree. The borders of the Gordeau Desert were exceptionally sparse in foliage, and what little there was could barely pass for cover. Hisoka was confident, however, that the biggest threat he faced this evening was the potential for unyielding boredom. 

The information he'd gotten for Chrollo led them to a man named Dekel Nazar. A wealthy man in his late 30's who had a penchant for goods worth more than his estate. He was a collector of rare trophies... both material and _organic_. According to the intel, he was in possession of at least one copy of _Greed Island_ and, having connections with the late dons of the mafia, had holed himself up in his conveniently isolated home. 

The building was split into two dominating sections. The living quarters where Nazar and his family likely stayed and something that looked more akin to a warehouse - the latter having no windows or obvious points of entry from the outside. Blueprints "borrowed" from an employee, however, revealed something like a cellar door that provided access from the yard, as well as two doors accessible only from the inside.

The plan was to get in, get the game, and get out. Or, at least, those were the only details Hisoka really retained. He yawned, his eyes slipping from the manor he was tasked with surveilling. 

A pen whipped by his face, lodging itself in the bark.

"Hmmm~?" Hisoka hummed as he stepped off the branch and dropped onto the clay-like dirt beneath him. "Having a long night~?" He added when he got a good look at Chrollo's face. Hisoka was getting better at reading his microexpressions. It was clear he thought of Hisoka as more of a burden than an asset. But if things went wrong, he preferred to have backup... despite that backup looking as out of place on a stakeout as a lawn flamingo.

"Hisoka...," he started, but stopped himself. There was nothing to be done for it.  
As his eyes swayed with the movement of Hisoka’s belt, Chrollo couldn’t help but think of Phinks in his ill-matched egyptian hats.  
  
After a moment of appreciation, his eyes fell back on the manor... much to Hisoka’s disappointment.  
  
“There are fewer guards than I’d expect around the perimeter.”  
“Perhaps he lost some people during your… earlier performance?”  
“... Hm,” Chrollo considered as he led Hisoka casually around to the back of the property. “Likely.”  
“That was quite a show~” Hisoka’s bloodlust spiked.  
Chrollo turned his gaze back to the clown hell-bent on being center stage. His stare was blank yet somehow _clearly_ disapproving.  
“Yes, yes.” Hisoka shrugged slightly as he reined his aura back in.  
  
“It’s been awhile since I’ve participated in such an... uninspired job,” Chrollo muttered, lifting the doors open.  
“Breaking and entering doesn’t do it for you ♣?”  
“Much like fighting someone without nen, I’d imagine.”  
Hisoka’s expression went dark. _Too soon._

___________________________________________________________

The two entered the warehouse, peering around into the dimly lit space. The doors had led into a narrow hallway that seemed to extend around the entire building. Chrollo leaned back, hands resting casually in his pockets while his eyes flickered around above his head, checking for surveillance threats. Hisoka pointed to his right, catching a camera with his bungee gum and shifting it just slightly towards the shadows. Straight ahead of them was an iron gate enclosed around a box-like opening in the wall.  
  
“Elevator? Was that on the blueprints?”  
“Who knows~” Hisoka nonchalantly walked up to the metal doors, prying them open.   
The gears shrieked in protest; their eerie cries echoed up through the shaft like a grave bell.  
Something about the sound unnerved Chrollo as he briefly stared past hisoka at the imposing concrete walls.

“Someone should check the residence, right?” Hisoka tried not to chuckle at the deadpan glare he was receiving. He flung his bungee gum to the top of the shaft before leaning casually into the doorway. “Perhaps he likes to play with his toys?”  
“Did our information suggest he was a nen user?”  
“Wouldn’t that be a pleasant surprise ♦?”  
“...Well. It’s a possibility we can’t overlook.” Chrollo decided as he turned to look towards a door down the hallway to his right. According to the blueprint, that area was used for storing valuables that couldn’t otherwise be used to pretty up a mantelpiece.  
  
“If there are nen users in the building, using en would just set off unnecessary alarms… If they haven’t already been set off.”  
Hisoka’s shoulders shuddered as he continued trying to contain his amusement.   
“We’ll split up. Meet back here in 20 minutes.”  
Hisoka took a step backward before casting a disgusted look towards Chrollo’s destination.  
  
“What’s the fun in having toys if you never get to _touch_ them?”  
He asked with a devious smirk before activating his bungee gum and propelling up a floor.  


___________________________________________________________

The last thing a thief expects is to end up beneath a spotlight. When they did, it was usually law enforcement. A helicopter. Police lights. Something safe and easily avoided. Chrollo, however, found himself on a makeshift stage staring at dozens of empty seats intended for an audience. Behind them, a familiar looking man was overlooking the scene from a balcony. Dark skin. Prematurely greying hair. A smug wrinkle in his grin that wreaked of misplaced arrogance.  
Dekel Nazar. The face was a match to the picture on his dossier. 

But, it was the forefront of Chrollo’s view that proved to be the most concerning. An array of bodies lay strewn about the platform, limp but not quite lifeless. Their expressions ranged from terror to numbness. The worst of them seemed to stare right through him, as if his body were a window into death. A lone woman hung above him in a bottomless birdcage. Her arms were suspended by hooks while her legs were malformed after having been cruelly wrapped around and nailed to what would have served as a swing. Bones protruded from her knees and ankles and every inch of her skin was covered in scarring. 

She looked as though she’d pry him open just for a breath of release. 

“Chrollo Lucilfer, correct? Leader of the phantom troupe? What an honor it is to have such an infamous guest in my house.”  
Ignoring the speaker, he attempted to leave the stage.  
___________________________________________________________

Two floors above, Hisoka was curiously prowling through the living area of the manor. The rooms were unusually silent. When he had first exited the elevator shaft, footsteps and muffled speech told him the place wasn’t uninhabited. Now, he wondered if his hopes for confrontation hadn’t caused hallucinations. His search of the first floor turned up nothing but abandoned rooms and dust. This floor, at least, appeared more lived in. Turning a corner, he noticed a faint glow emanating from one of the rooms. The door was left ajar, and peering through the crack, he saw a television screen lit up as if it were in use. 

“Hmm~?” He pushed the door open, listening to the intoxicating screech. He closed his eyes, imagining Chrollo’s silent chastising, before stepping into the room.  
Looking around, he noticed all manner of childish memorabilia. Toy horses. Carousels. Porcelain dolls. Plush animals.  
Ameteur paintings littered the walls.  
Every _inch_ of bare wall had a scribble to fill it. A lace canopy hung over the round bed.  
It was pulled down like a cover meant to keep a bird quiet in the night.

“Mister?”  
Hisoka turned to see a small girl standing beside him. Mousy hair and skinny arms inside clothes that weren't for her.  
His eyes grew wide, having not noticed her presence until she spoke. 

“And where might you have been hiding♠~?”  
The girl, who looked to be a year or two younger than Gon, smiled brightly and pointed to a console in front of the television set.  
“Greed Island! Have you been there? You have, right?”  
“No,” he answered, matching her smile. “But I’d love to go~”  
The girl blinked as if that wasn’t quite what she was expecting to hear. She gave him the once over, finally noticing his attire. Hisoka watched, curious, as her suspicion gave way to absolute delight. 

“Are you a clown, mister? Are you here to bring me to the circus?”  
“Would you like to go~?” He teased.  
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Her enthusiasm sent bubbles though Hisoka. Her demand that a perfect stranger bring her to unfamiliar fairgrounds in the middle of the night reminded him of another selfish, unreasonable child.  
  
“But that’s too bad♦~”  
“Is the circus not in town?” She responded as if immediately understanding the problem.  
“I’m afraid not,” Hisoka shrugged, holding his hands up in a show of defeat.  
“Aww,” the girl looked away. A normal child might throw a tantrum at being lead on like that, but her disappointment seemed to peter out as quickly as her next idea came. 

“Then, then! Can you paint my face? Can I paint yours?!”  
“As you can see,” he pointed to his cheek. “Mine’s already done.”  
“Then… you do my face and I’ll do your nails!”  
Hisoka considered her proposal as he glanced behind her at the Joystation.  
  
It’d be easy enough to swipe the disc and cartridge while she was distracted.  
  
“Okay~”  
He sat down on the carpet while she gathered up a bucket of paints that likely didn’t belong anywhere near human skin.  
“What should I do?~” Hisoka asked as he peered into her face.  
“A star! Like yours!” Her expression brightened even further as she grabbed a couple of mini nail polishes from her box.  
“Gold sparkles or _blue_?”  


___________________________________________________________

After finishing her star, Hisoka excused himself from the room only to find he had a small shadow. She called after him.  
“Mister, are you leaving already?”  
“I have a…” Hisoka paused, an amused smirk tugging at his lips the way she tugged at his hand, “ _friend_ I promised to meet.”  
“Is it Daddy’s friend? Is it? Daddy said someone came to see the show!”  
“Oh~ What kind of show?”  
“Well…” she hesitated, as if deep in thought. “It’s not exactly like a circus, but… Do you wanna see?”  
“I do, I do ♠~” 

Hisoka let the girl lead him to a door at the back of their floor.  
It was framed in gold and red velvet, made to look antique. If memory served, this should come out right over the “storage space” Chrollo had been headed for. Though, he hardly trusted his memory.  
The girl twisted the handle timidly, as if entering a parent’s study uninvited, and slowly dragged Hisoka down the center of a balcony.  
A man stood with his back to them, seemingly giving a speech. 

_“You see, my wife and I were childhood friends. She was a very…_ unique _  
child. She hated to be alone. Especially when she was in pain. Emotional. Physical. Either or. She would_ insist _on being around you. Clinging to you… Infuriating, right? Abandonment issues, I think. How_ dull _. But turns out, she subconsciously developed this ability that triggers whenever she experiences pain! It keeps people near her. So if I say, break her arm, anyone within range will become trapped inside her en until she calms down. Isn’t that just so_ useful _?_ Especially _, if I can force her to be in a state of pain permanently!”_

Looking down, Hisoka noticed that the walls on each side of the “theatre” were lined with displays. Each one contained at least semi-human specimens. _Many_ looked like normal people. _All_ of which were trapped behind nen walls. 

_“And the best part,”_ the speech continued. _“If I’m within range, both her and I become invincible! Her en acts as my own_ personal shield _! I guess tolerating all her crap through the years really paid off.”_

Hisoka noticed the birdcage next, followed by the mutilated people on the stage.  
All of whom, were no less or more than dead to him. 

_“And let me tell you, we are a_ very _close-knit family. I’m so proud of my daughter. She’s a child prodigy!”_

And then Hisoka saw Chrollo.

 _“Anyone she’s painted on-”_ the man continued, _“becomes susceptible to my hatsu!”_  


___________________________________________________________

Chrollo was surprised to see a young girl leading Hisoka by the hand onto the balcony behind Nazar.  
He kept his composure, hoping Hisoka would take care of this quickly.  
“Danchou ♥~” Hisoka silently mouthed to Chrollo.  
  
“Daddy!”  
The little girl bounced up into her father’s arms faster than Hisoka could draw a card. Chrollo watched what appeared to be Hisoka moving in slow motion until eventually a barrier became hazily visible. He was trapped in a cage. Much like the other displays in the room.  
“Trophy Tamer.” Nazar called out as the cage seemed to solidify.  
“Yay! Thank you, Daddy!”  
“Not a problem, sweetheart. Daddy always wanted a jester. Every king should have one, don’t you think, _Chrollo_?”

An unusually cold sensation weaved its way up Chrollo’s spine. Despite Hisoka being a traitor, he could still only see a spider in a cage. There was a subtle shift in Chrollo’s posture. Everything sharpened. His senses. His stance. His focus. Everything came to a tempered point.  
Hisoka’s pupils constricted at the sight.  
Chrollo leaned back, meeting eyes with the woman suspended above him. She hadn’t blinked once in the amount of time he’d been standing there. _If she could_ , he thought, _she would expel every ounce of existence from this room_.  
This was a family that would hurt each other, _maim_ each other... For the sake of _what_ , exactly? 

**Rule #2:** Conflict within the family was not permissible. If it were, what would be the difference between blood within the circle and without?

With that thought in mind, Chrollo threw himself backwards, giving himself space, and lunged at the wall to his left. He ran up the side, kicked off the concrete, and propelled himself into the birdcage. He caught the iron bars, wincing as he slid down them; the metal was rough with rust and dried blood. He pulled himself up through the bottom and scaled the outer rim towards the center.  
“Daddy, Daddy! What’s he doing?”  
“Seems we’ve found ourselves an acrobat, darling.” Nazar was thoroughly entertained. “It’s no use. You can’t hurt her.”

Chrollo maneuvered his way to the end of the swing and began to walk across it. “You’re an idiot.”  
He drew his ben’s knife and pointed it at the man’s wife.  
“In telling me how it is you keep your wife controlled, you admitted to causing her physical harm. Therefore, I can conclude that her ability only shields against nen use.”  
Nazar’s overabundant confidence went pale along with his complexion.  
He set his daughter on the ground, who promptly went to check on Hisoka. She tapped on the cage like one would to an animal.  


“You seem to have forgotten that nen is just a tool like any other. It does not make you invulnerable. My hands, my knife… either can easily put an end to this woman.”  
Before he had finished his sentence, the woman was dead. 

Nazar didn’t have time to protest before Chrollo was behind him, blade just barely scraping the skin under his chin.  
Instead, the scream came from the little girl. It quickly turned to quiet sobs, then silence.  
The girl turned to face Chrollo who’d hesitated at the sound of her voice.  
“You can’t kill me,” raged Nazar. “These cages will remain even after I’m dead! How would you get your partner out then?”  
Chrollo could almost feel a laugh seeping up the back of his throat, like acid just before you get sick.  
“You’re mistaken.”  
  
“Huh?” Nazar’s eyes went wide as Chrollo jerked the blade across his throat. The bloodspray rained onto his daughter’s shaken frame, smearing over the star Hisoka had painted onto her cheek. Chrollo slid the knife back under his shirt and stared down into the girl’s face. She looked straight back into his eyes. They were an oil painting of red poppies, sun-kissed by the factory lights. More beautiful and more hideous than anything she’d seen.  
She wished she could paint them.

Chrollo didn’t need to ask the question. She reached up and wiped the star completely from her face.  
As she did, the nen surrounding Hisoka dissipated.  
“Aren’t you supposed to be a magician?” Chrollo mocked as Hisoka straightened himself out.  
“Should I have disappeared ♦~?” Hisoka asked with a sidelong glance towards Chrollo.  
He cracked every bone he could before smoothing out his hair and holding a card to the tip of the girl’s nose. Chrollo lightly pushed his hand away, only keeping contact long enough for Hisoka to get the message. Hisoka wouldn’t have noticed Chrollo’s lingering agitation were it not for how warm his touch had been.

“The other cages haven’t vanished. How can we be sure the effects are gone?”  
The girl started to roll up her pants, revealing star after star after star on her skin. Blue. Red. Purple. Green. Yellow.  
She lifted up her shirt just enough to show her navel, only to reveal more. They looked more akin to bruises than stars. A constellation of wounds under fabric clouds where no one would be able to see. Chrollo bent down and ran a finger over her ankle.  
The paint didn’t smudge. They were permanent.  
  
“Why was Hisoka’s different?”  
“Daddy would... force them to draw on me. And then go over what they’d drawn to keep it from going away.”  
“I see.”  
The girl nodded as she glanced back at the mangled corpse of her mother.  
“I only wanted mister clown… because Daddy was spending more... and more time down here. I thought maybe… _you'd_ play with me instead.” She said, looking at Hisoka.  
  
Chrollo smiled at the girl as he rolled her pant legs back down.  
“Would you like to play now?”  
  
Once again, the girl seemed to understand the implications. Even as young as she was, even living in this so-called luxury, she’d grown up much too fast. She reminded Chrollo of the children from Meteor city. The ones that became accustomed to death and human atrocity.  
The smile he gave her was genuine. And it was the only thing he believed he could offer.  
He stood back up and walked by Hisoka.  
“Kill them all,” he muttered as he passed. 

Hisoka went stiff. Killing the dead seemed redundant. But if it had to be done, might as well make it a show.  
His body vanished in a haze of white smoke before reappearing on the stage. With an elegant twirl, he cut through the living dolls at his feet. Blood whirled around him like a curtain, revealing the ringmaster for a grand finale.  
  
He through his hands up, dramatic as he pleased, and narrowed his eyes at his audience of one.  


___________________________________________________________

Chrollo waited in a corner of the hotel room, staring blankly at the door between turning pages of a book.  
His idle movements froze as soon as the knob started to turn.  
  
Hisoka stepped into the room looking like he'd stepped out of a grave.  
Bloodlust reverberated through the floor with every movement. Every breath sent a shockwave through Chrollo.  
Without Ren, even this subconscious pulsation sent his nerves on edge.

Hisoka could barely keep eye contact. His body was quaking under the weight of need. So much time spent immobile while Chrollo conducted yet _another_ symphony had brought him to a breaking point. The bodies he ended were just that - bodies.  
He needed to feel genuine life in his hands.

He surged towards Chrollo. 

In the next instant, the chair Chrollo had been sitting in was disemboweled.  
An endless series of attacks and dodges ricocheted off the walls in every room. One hit landed, slicing open Chrollo's side just beneath his ribs. It sent him backpedaling onto the couch.  
Hisoka's grin nearly swallowed his eyes as he jerked his finger towards himself.

Immediately realizing what had happened, Chrollo kicked off the cushions, placed his palm against Hisoka's shoulder, and flipped himself over his body to face him from behind.  
A knife was already pressed against Hisoka's lower back by the time either had taken a breath.  
  
"Oh~ Danchou ♠~" Some sanity seemed to slip in through the cracks as the knife caressed his skin.  
The poison on the blade was numbing the area it touched. A drop in his bloodstream would paralyze him.  
"Are you finished?"  
"Yes, yes~" Hisoka began to pull away before twisting on his toes and pulling Chrollo into his arms. Although helpless against the bungee gum, Chrollo's reflexes kept up, allowing him to lower the knife before it impaled either one of them in a necessary organ. 

"Deactivate it."  
"Where's the fun in that ♦~?"  
Hisoka threw him onto floor and leaned over him, wagging his finger so Chrollo could feel Hisoka's aura pull against his cheek.  
"And where's my reward for _this_?"  
With his free hand, Hisoka seemed to manifest a disc. It spun like a silver globe on the tip of his finger.  
"The game. You found a copy."  
"So~" Hisoka leaned closer to Chrollo, now jokingly fanning himself with the memory cartridge.  
He tossed both items onto a nearby coffee table, looking fully entitled to a cut of the “profit”.  
Chrollo sighed, accepting the second tribute he'd apparently have to offer. The night had been less than satisfying.  
At least Hisoka could keep things interesting. 

"Go ahead."  
Hisoka immediately ran his hands underneath Chrollo's shirt, pulling it up over his collar bones. He traced the injury he'd left, pushing into it as he followed it along Chrollo's ribcage.  
The blood plastered onto Hisoka's fingers as if it yearned to make a mold from his touch.  
He hoped for a wince, but Chrollo just watched him as if he were gazing at a curiosity from behind the glass.  
_What would it take to much that shatter?_  
Hisoka split the wound, opening it further. 

Chrollo's muscles began to flinch involuntarily at the pain, the vibrations tormenting both of them. Hisoka bent further down, placing his tongue at the curve of Chrollo's navel as he slipped his slick fingers into Chrollo's mouth.  
Chrollo split the fingers with his tongue before biting down with enough force to cause a fracture.  
“ ** _Oh~_** Danchou. _Danchou_ ♥~” Hisoka moaned.

His teeth were on the brim of Chrollo’s pants when a foot met him hard in the chest.  
Hisoka caught himself on his elbows, watching Chrollo with an unbridled, sultry interest.  
Chrollo dropped into a straddle over him, knocking him flat onto his back. His knees dug into the dips of Hisoka's shoulders, and his shirt had slipped back down, revealing only a glimpse of midriff above his unbuttoned pants.  
"Find the exorcist," Chrollo demanded, pushing off Hisoka and catching him in the jaw with a kick that sent him spiraling into bliss.  


___________________________________________________________

Chrollo seemed to wander into the bathroom despite it only being a few steps away. He felt Hisoka’s eyes on his back and tried to ignore the familiar _itch_ he’d felt a few days prior. He pulled his shirt off and leaned over the sink, spitting the mixture of their blood down the drain.  
The glint of gold glitter from his wound caught his attention in the mirror. It accented the blood, making it gleam like an ardent reminder of the heat on his skin. He stared at it, stretching slightly as if to try and see his bones. He found himself feeling disappointed that the cut wasn’t nearly deep enough for that.  
  
_After all,  
what better way to understand yourself than to take a look at your own heart?_


End file.
